


wings

by shairiru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, fallen angel AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 16:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10140494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shairiru/pseuds/shairiru
Summary: “I’ve been punished. It is a consequence, perhaps.”“What did you do? Defy God? Thought of yourself as his equal?”“No, I...”A mortal with stars in his eyes, a purpose in his stride. Someone who should have had wings but was never allowed to fly.“I loved a human.”“I thought it’d be more original.”





	

 

i

 

Ushijima had never fallen so hard before, never that far. He felt like a star shooting down the sky, but instead of a wish, he brought down sin. His wings quivered behind him, the pristine white feathers turning into lead gray. It cushioned his forced descent from the skies and it ached badly, the pain consuming his whole being.

 

The last thing he saw was the dark gray clouds overhead, seemingly closing the heavens on him before the darkness ate at his consciousness.

 

ii

 

 _ _I’__ _ _m on a cloud,__  was his first thought when he regained his consciousness. He was lying on his side on a white soft bed, his wings folded against his back. He was still aching, but it had lessened now.

 

“You’re still alive.” A young man was standing just beside him, staring curiously. “I saw you falling from the sky. I thought you’d be dead when you hit the ground.”

 

Ushijima looked around him and realized he was in a room, most probably this young man’s. The light outside had gone dimmer. It was almost nighttime.

 

“You’re not surprised?” Ushijima asked him. Most humans would cower in fear at the sight of an angel before them. This certain human just looked like he found something mildly interesting.

 

“I can’t say I’m not. It isn’t everyday that I find an... _ _angel__  ruining my garden. But you looked like you needed help, you were bleeding badly earlier. I guess you heal fast.”

 

Ushijima knew that, and he didn’t have to see his skin back to its flawless condition again. He might have gotten kicked out from heaven, but at least he kept that ability.

 

“You believe in angels, then.”

 

“I do.”

 

 

iii

 

Shirabu, as he introduced himself, was a university student. Ushijima knew of human universities being filled with energetic youth and rebellious spirits. It was where most souls go astray, a real dilemma up in the heavens.

 

It was strange being tended to by a human. Despite healing fast, Ushijima was still unable to move freely. The boy brought him food to eat and water to drink. Still, he eyed him with a mixture of wariness and wonder. He asked if he could touch his wings. Ushijima let him.

 

“Shouldn’t they be whiter?” His palms felt rough, each of his feathers reacting to the touch. A few of them fell off.

 

“I’ve been punished. It is a consequence, perhaps.”

 

“What did you do? Defy God? Thought of yourself as his equal?”

 

“No, I...” __A mortal with stars in his eyes, a purpose in his stride. Someone who should have had wings but was never allowed to fly__. “I loved a human.”

 

“I thought it’d be more original.” Shirabu pulled away. “Where is this human, then? Would you go to them?”

 

“It’s not possible anymore.”

 

He sees in the way Shirabu’s eyes widen and his lips curl down that he understood what he meant.

 

 

iv

 

He remembered  him clearly, the boy who can fly even without wings. There was grace in each of his step, a beauty in each of his movement. Angels weren’t supposed to recognize beauty. That was the moment Ushijima realized the beginnings of his sin.

 

v

 

Ushijima mostly slept. His body felt very tired quickly, and many of his feathers have started falling off. Shirabu remained wary about his presence, but he never forgot to bring back something to eat for Ushijima.

 

Eating was an entirely new concept for him. Angels never needed physical nourishment; apparently, a human body did at least three times a day.

 

“It’s probably why you still feel weak,” Shirabu told him when he was giving him a box full of food. He had made him sit in front of the table so that they could eat together for the first time. “This isn’t much, but you have to fill up your stomach.”

 

“You’re too kind.”

 

Shirabu frowns. “I’m just doing what I should.”

 

“Isn’t that kindness?”

 

He made an amused expression. “For an angel, I thought you’d be the expert on morality.”

 

“We’re only messengers,” Ushijima explained, “Angels do not judge humans on their own.We wouldn’t know if they were a good person, or they were bad. We only deliver them to where they should go while awaiting their final judgment.”

 

“How about the human you loved? Were you the one who delivered that person?”

 

“I fell the same time he breathed his last.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s so that we wouldn’t encounter each other at all.”

 

“That’s cruel.”

 

“It’s just fitting.” An angel should never have ownership of the feeling of wanting. It is the seed of all sins. “I’ve become greedy.”

 

vi

 

It was cloudy that afternoon, the surroundings basked in a melancholic gray ambiance. Ushijima was alone in Shirabu’s apartment  and he’s eyeing the mess that he made on the garden. Shirabu managed to sweep the floor and bought materials that we would need, but he still hadn’t had  time to devote himself into fixing it. Seeing as it was his fault that the garden was ruined, Ushijima stepped out to the balcony and tried to fix what he can. From the hundreds of years that he had been an angel, he supposed he should have known about how a garden must look like.

 

He started with the broken pots. Careful that he doesn’t destroy the roots, he scoops up the plants from them and transferred them to the new ones that Shirabu bought. It brought him a certain sense of nostalgia, feeling the soft, damp soil on his fingers, when he was so used to the coldness of clouds. It made him feel more human, and less of an angel that he once was.

 

Upon gathering the broken pots in one side, he accidentally cut himself. He felt the stinging pain at once on his right ring finger, and he watched in awe as a drop of bright red blood seeped out from his pale skin.

 

__One. Two. Three. It would heal any moment now._ _

__

The wound didn’t close as fast as he expected it to.

 

vii

 

“What’s that?”

 

They were eating that night, a strange combination of vegetables and spices. Shirabu had noticed the wrap around his finger.

 

“I wounded myself earlier.”

 

“What?” Shirabu suddenly looked concerned, his smooth forehead crumpling. “Why? What were you doing?”

 

“I was trying to fix your garden.”

 

“Let me see,” Shirabu dragged his chair next to him and looked at his finger. “I should probably redo your wrapping, we don’t want it to get infected.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it. This should be healed already.”

 

“Is it?” Shirabu took off the wrap carefully. It stung.

 

The wound was still there - fresh and scabbing, yes, still a wound.

 

“I don’t understand,” Ushijima muttered. It should have disappeared already.

 

“It’s nothing that will kill you,” there was a small curve on Shirabu’s lips as he stood up. “Come on, let’s clean this properly.”

 

Ushijima followed him to the kitchen. Shirabu opened the faucet and guided his finger there, gently attending to him. He noticed yet again how rough Shirabu’s palms were. Ushijima thought they should be softer.

 

“Right,” Shirabu’s voice brought Ushijima’s attention back to the task at hand. “Now that it’s clean, that’s when you’re supposed to wrap it neatly with a clean bandage.” He shows him a strip of white cloth. “You should take note of this if you’re going to become more human.”

 

“More human?” His wings quivered, a few more feathers falling off.

 

“I’m supposing you’re turning more human. You used to lose your wounds immediately, but now, a simple cut like this is taking the normal time in healing.”

 

“I suppose.” Ushijima only felt a mild disappointment in him. He’d been expecting that, he just didn’t realize it would come soon. “Should I start learning things that are human?”

 

“Of course. You should learn to do things on your own.” Shirabu finished wrapping his wound with bandage. Ushijima immediately noticed the absence of warmth on his hands. “You can’t stay here forever.”

 

viii

 

He stared at the wide expanse of the sky, stared at the passing clouds. It hadn’t been long when he was staring at the ground from those very clouds. He has missed how the cold wind touched his skin everytime he flew. He missed flying, most of all.

 

Being an angel wasn’t particularly hard. It was more of a duty than a personality that one owned. A purpose that was naturally fulfilled by guiding souls to their rightful waiting places. For the hundreds of years that he was an angel, Ushijima had lost count of all the souls that he had guided. They never made a mark. Human souls never usually do.

 

But one did. A certain human, who used to be alive at that moment, did make a mark on Ushijima’s purpose-driven existence.

 

He missed a lot of things. He missed that human.

 

He didn’t miss being an angel.

 

ix

 

Shirabu was still asleep. It was a weekend and the sun was already way above the horizon. Ushijima had been waiting for Shirabu to wake up for the past two hours, but all that Shirabu has done was stir on his bed and snore lightly. Ushijima’s stomach had been making a strange sound since he woke up, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He didn’t want to wake Shirabu up forcibly, of course. And so he waited.

 

However, Shirabu didn’t seem to be waking up any time soon, and there was a painful pang on Ushijima’s stomach. Not being able to hold himself any longer, he reached out and touched his shoulder.

 

“Shirabu.”

 

He only got a groan in response. Ushijima tried shaking him slightly.

 

“Shirabu,” he repeated, a little louder this time.

 

Shirabu turned. He opened his eyes slowly, his mouth slightly open. “Huh?”

 

“I need your help.”

He instantly sat up, his hair sticking out everywhere. There was a slight panic on his face when he finally looked at him.

 

“About what?”

 

“My stomach-” Just then, the strange sound appeared again, “That. It’s been making that noise since earlier. What do I do about this?”

 

A repressed giggle. Then, Shirabu fell to his pillow face down, laughing.

 

Ushijima waited in confusion for him to calm down. When Shirabu finally calmed down, he turned to Ushijima, still smiling.

 

“That means you’re hungry.”

 

Another symptom of being a human.

 

“Will it go away?”

 

“Yeah of course,” Shirabu stretched, letting out a loud yawn at the same time, “I’ll just cook breakfast for us.”

 

“Should I learn that as well?”

 

“That’s a good idea. Then shall we fix the garden together afterwards?”

 

Shirabu cooked soft and circular things he called ‘ _ _pancakes__ ’. Topped with a sweet ‘ _ _maple syrup__ ’, Ushijima found it in himself to enjoy the simple meal. In no time at all, he had consumed five pancakes and Shirabu was staring at him.

 

“Why?” He asked while chewing on his sixth.

 

“Do…you want some more pancakes?”

 

Ushijima eyed the plate on the center of the table and saw that it only had one more.

 

“There are more?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

 

Ushijima took the last pancake on the plate. “Thank you.”

 

xi

 

__There were embers everywhere, fire that never seemed to die out. Ushijima’s wings were fully spread out. They were charcoal black._ _

__

x

 

Shirabu was clothed in black, his hair pushed back smoothly. He’s eyeing himself on the mirror, folding the cuffs of his sleeves. Ushijima was watching him from the bed. He could also see himself on it, his wings almost non-existent. Only a few handful of feathers remained. He had thought of picking them out himself, but at the end, he let time do its thing.

 

“Is it painful?”

 

Shirabu’s and Ushijima’s eyes met on the mirror. Shirabu was fixing a tie around his collar.

 

“What is?”

 

“The falling feathers.”

 

“Not at all. It should be a good sign.”

 

Shirabu turned around to face him. “Would you like to go out of this apartment for once? Come with me?”

 

“Where to?”

 

“An acquaintance of ours died recently. Today is his funeral.”

 

Ushijima had never went to a funeral despite having guided a lot of souls. His duty as an angel starts and stops from the moment the human dies. He didn’t care where the physical body ends up to.

 

“That sounds good but how do you propose I go out without having these remaining wings seen?”

 

“I have the perfect coat for you.”

 

xii

 

He remembered him clearly, the boy who could fly even without wings.

 

The person being lowered to the ground had his face, but Ushijima couldn’t recognize him at the same time.

 

All of his family and friends gathered around the rectangular hole where his remains were about to be buried. Ushijima stayed far  away from the crowd nursing a hollow feeling on his chest. He was grieving. There was a finality in the way the humans covered the hole back and set the tombstone over it.

 

“Ushijima-san.” Shirabu found him hiding behind a tree. The crowd had considerably lessened now, the skies turning gray. “Was he…the human that you fell for?”

 

“He is.”

 

“I should have known. Oikawa-san, he was our team’s official setter. He got diagnosed with cancer last year, but he didn’t let that stop him from playing.”

 

“I saw that. He was always…flying.”

 

Shirabu reached out and placed a hand on Ushjima’s shoulder. “He meant a lot to you, I’m sure, since you’ve lost your immortality for him. It’s alright to be sad over this. It’s a new thing for you, loss, that is.”

 

“Do I look like someone who just experienced loss?”

 

“Pretty much,”  Shirabu throws him a sad smile, “I think you’re more affected than I am, actually.”

 

Ushijima placed his own hand over Shirabu’s that was still on his shoulder.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He asked to stay behind, and Shirabu let him, saying he’d be back for him in an hour or so. Finally, Ushijima was alone in the cemetery. He approached Oikawa’s resting place and sat in front of it. He remembers the soft soil that he had held days ago, and how it was the same soil that was keeping Oikawa underneath.

 

“You can no longer fly again,” he said out loud. He meant it for Oikawa despite knowing he won’t be able to hear it anymore. The body below was just a shell.

 

“Do you regret it now?”

 

Ushijima looked up at the familiar voice that spoke. He found himself looking at spread wings. It was Kawanishi; an angel which he used to be.

 

“Do you regret feeling for this mortal, Ushijima-san?”

 

He felt the rest of his feathers falling off.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

xiii

 

Ushijima had been considerably down ever since Oikawa’s funeral. He wasn’t particularly lively in the first place, but now, he’d be either sleeping or staring at some distance far away. He never looked up to the sky, though, Shirabu had noticed. At the moment, he was leaning against the balcony, shirtless as he is. There were two elongated scars across his back, the only remainder of his wings.

 

“Ushijima-san” Shirabu was preparing his bag when an idea came to mind. Ushijima turned to face him. “Do you want to come with me today? We have volleyball practice.”

 

He looked doubtful at first, but it wasn’t long before he was wearing his shirt. His feet were too large for Shirabu’s shoes, and Shirabu wouldn’t let him go out again with his bare feet. He let him borrow a pair of slippers that was still an inch too short for him. It was better than nothing.

 

Their walk to the university gymnasium was a quiet one. Shirabu wanted to fill the silence with some conversation, but he could feel that Ushijima wasn’t in the mood for any. He remained passive until the moment they both heard the sounds of squeaking and bouncing. Shirabu turned to Ushijima then and found a spark of recognition in his eyes.

 

“You can watch us practice,” he told him. “I can’t be with you the whole time, so please stay put in one place.”

 

“I’ve been here a lot of times watching __him__ ,” Ushijima finally spoke. “I don’t recall seeing you.”

 

“I can’t blame you for that.” Shirabu smiled. “Shall we go inside?”

 

xiv

 

Ushjima saw Shirabu for the first time holding the ball between his hands. He watched as Shirabu moved with grace yet with precision, every step he took measured. He was seeing the human who had given him shelter with a new perspective.

 

Shirabu’s feet almost never left the ground. He was always holding the ball, however, and tossing it to his teammates. Whenever the ball was on his possession, he was always ready to give it up for a better shot. Everyone else was jumping up, hitting the ball that Shirabu gave them while suspended on the air.

 

Ushijima had a revelation,then.

 

Shirabu enabled people to fly.

 

xv

 

__The wind was fast and cold. He can see the light beyond the horizon. Higher, and higher._ _

__

__He was flying._ _

__

xvi

 

Ushijima spent more time in the gymnasium after that, regularly watching the volleyball practices when Shirabu had them. He remembered watching the same scenery when he was still an angel. Only that it was actually more enjoyable watching it now as a human from the side of the courts than watching it from the overhead.

 

__Human._ _

__

He started to wrap his mind around the fact that he was almost completely human. Eating had started to become a routine, and so was taking a bath. Shirabu was so appalled the other day when he found out that Ushijima had not cleaned himself since he fell. An angel never needs to cleanse himself physically, but apparently, humans start to emit a horrible smell if they skipped on it. Nevertheless, Ushijima enjoyed the smell of soap.

 

Practice finished early that certain afternoon and Shirabu was soon left alone to check that everything was in their proper places. A ball had rolled next to Ushijima’s foot. He took it, feeling the smooth rubber on his palms. It felt light despite its appearance. No wonder it could look like a shooting star when hit strongly by some players.

 

“Would you like to try it?”

 

He looked up at Shirabu, eyes wide in surprise.

 

“Volleyball?”

 

“Yeah, you’ve been staring at the ball for quite some time. You’ve watched a lot of practices anyway. I can teach you the basics.”

 

Ushijima was on his feet at once.

 

They spent another hour in the gymnasium. Ushijima learned how to __serve__  and to __receive__. His wrists were red and hurting by the end, but he felt exhilarated. __Happy.__

__

“Can you make me fly?”

 

It took Shirabu a moment before he understood.

 

“Of course.”

 

They spent another half an hour on __spiking__.

 

Ushijima wasn’t successful. He’d always miss spiking the ball, or he’d always run into the net. The timing was quite complicated.

 

At the end, he wasn’t quite able to get it perfectly. Shirabu told him he’s almost there. Just a few more practices, and he could fly once more.

 

xvii

 

“Why do you keep on visiting me? I thought the heavens has already let go of me.”

 

Kawanishi was hanging around once more, unseen to everyone else’s eyes besides Ushijima’s. Volleyball practice was ongoing, even more intense than the previous ones. A competition was around the corner.

 

“You were a good angel, Ushijima-san. One of the best I’ve known. I’m just spending as much time as I could with you. When your Judgment is over and if you become human, everyone will forget that you were one of us.”

 

“If?”

 

“There’s a chance you’d still be thrown to Tartarus.”

 

(xi)

 

xviii

 

Angels do not forget Lucifer. Nor do they forget Astaroth, Lillith, Samael, or any other angels who have sinned and got cast into hell, chained into eternal punishment. They did, however forget those who have been spared and became human.

 

Ushijima shared his thoughts with Shirabu one random dinner, and to his surprise, Shirabu had his own thing to say about the matter.

 

“Maybe it’s to keep from everyone from following,” he said casually as if it was the most natural thing to think of in the world.

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“Well I think that if you remembered the angels that fell and became human, and you remembered the reasons as to why they fell, then you’d know that it’s fine to sin against the heavens as long as you don’t commit sins graver than theirs. Without remembering it, you only have two options: be an angel, or be chained in hell.”

 

Ushijima chewed on his food thoughtfully. “For  a human, you make a lot of sense.”

 

Shirabu laughed. “Thank you.”

 

xix

 

“Do you miss your wings?”

 

Ushijima had been looking at his bare back on the mirror when Shirabu went out of the bathroom, getting ready for that day’s classes. Many times, Ushijima had wondered many times why Shirabu was still letting him stay, but he supposed he wasn’t in any position to question his kindness.

 

His hand automatically reached for the scars that remained.

 

“It’s the flying that I miss, I suppose.”

 

Shirabu stepped closer to him then, eyeing the expanse of his back.

 

“Can I?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

He felt Shirabu’s fingers trace the lines of his scar, a gentle touch against his skin. He watched on the mirror as Shirabu seemed to be drawn into what remained of his wings. He recalled the first time Shirabu had touched him, the roughness of his palm against his silky feathers. His palms were still rough, and now that it was his skin that was being touched, he could feel it even more. Both the roughness, and the warmth of Shirabu’s breath. Their eyes met, and somehow, something was different with the way Shirabu held his gaze.

 

Shirabu stepped away, removing his hand as if burnt.

 

“Was there a problem?” Ushijima asked, worried that a vestigial part of his wing would have hurt him.

 

“Nothing,” he wrung his hand together. “I should go now.”

 

“Will you have volleyball practice later?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright. I’ll be waiting then.”

 

“Okay. I’ll bring food.”

 

He was about to step away when Ushijima remembered something, and he caught him by his wrist.

 

“Shirabu.”

 

Shirabu looked at him with wide eyes. “What is it?”

 

“I forgot to say thank you.”

 

He smiled then, his eyes returning to its usual spark. It’s the eyes that knew when and how to make people fly. When Shirabu understood things, he could be even brighter than a cloud in daylight.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

xx

 

__Ushijima was dreaming of flying. Then it was being dragged down to the depths of Tartarus with a chain on his ankles. His wings burned until they turned charcoal. His fist met hard ground, his hands and knees were bleeding profusely. All around him, he heard the agony of tormented souls. Their voices drilled deep onto his consciousness and he felt like losing himself to the pain of it all._ _

__

__Ushijima screamed with them._ _

 

xxi

 

“Ushijima-san!”

 

Ushijima woke with a start, still screaming and grasping at the air. His hands found Shirabu’s shoulder and he gripped them tight, catching his breath. Sweat was dripping down his face and he was damp from it all over as well. He tried to calm down, but his heart was beating too fast against his chest and his head was pounding too hard.

 

“Do you need water?” Shirabu prompted. Ushijma only nodded in response, not finding any voice to speak with. He was parched.

 

Shirabu was back in a moment with a glass of water. It only took one gulp for Ushijima to down it. It didn’t feel satisfying, but it was enough to bring back his voice and settle his nerves. He looked again at Shirabu and in the dim light, he could see how deep his frown was.

 

“I’m sorry for making you worry. It  was just a bad dream.”

 

“It wasn’t __just__  a bad dream. I should know.”

 

Ushijima found himself confused as Shirabu turned his back on him and started to pull off his shirt.

 

“What are y-”

 

The moon was full that night. The windows were slightly open, letting it light up the room a bit. From that small illumination, Ushijima saw clearly the two identical scars that ran across Shirabu’s back. Scars that were similar to his own.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is fine...I haven't written ushishira over a year I feel so out of touch ;~;


End file.
